Diplomacy
by WhiteWings9
Summary: Arthur and Yao struggle to define their new relationship status in the current political climate. China/England. Angst. Smut. Short.


**Diplomacy**

Arthur had scheduled a wake-up call for a quarter to seven, but he found he much preferred the surprise oral Yao was administering to him right now. The sounds those lips and tongue made as they worshipped his cock were wet and deliberately lewd, and Arthur soon peaked with a delicious shudder as an orgasm washed over him.

The moans that turn into deep, throaty purrs as he _moved_ _just right_; the sighs that fall from red, red lips as he re-visited the kiss-bitten spots he had mapped out the night before – Yao demanded all of Arthur with seductive little tricks that Arthur found all too easy to fall for. He came once more inside of Yao with a low, sated groan and Yao sighed his name in pleasure, their lips coming together for a sloppy kiss.

It was nearly eight when Arthur finally tumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. He did not object to Yao intercepting him for a round in the shower, and once more over the marble sink, lithe legs wrapped firmly around Arthur's waist as nails clawed fresh marks into Arthur's back and teethed new bruises into Arthur's shoulder.

Breakfast was brought up at around twenty to nine. Yao in his too-big bathrobe looked the picture of innocence as he tucked into toast and scrambled eggs, ignoring Arthur as he winced into his newly laundered shirt. Arthur was certain that he was bleeding by the way his shirt stuck uncomfortably to his back, and felt quite irritated when he finally sat down to eat.

"What is this?" he asked a little crossly as he spotted a box on his plate.

"A gift," Yao said. He smiled. "Open it."

Arthur picked it up with a frown. It was an expensive-looking box. He pulled off the ribbon and pried it open to find it contained a silver watch. He stared at it for a moment, then glanced up.

"I can't accept this."

Yao's lips twitched at the corners. He set down his tea cup and reached over the table to pull the watch out of its velvet cushion. Without prompt, Arthur lifted his hand and let Yao fasten it around his wrist. The silver links bit a little into his skin as the clasp snapped shut.

"I think it looks lovely on you," Yao said as he inspected his gift around Arthur's wrist.

Those large golden eyes fixed suddenly to Arthur in a wistful expression. Arthur was suddenly reminded of a time long, long ago when he had breathed those same words into the shell of Yao's flushed ear as he slipped some cheap ornament onto him. It was usually something feminine, something pretty. A brooch, perhaps, a hair slide once, something to claim him with. Looking into Yao's eyes, he could see that the watch was being given to him with the same possessive sentiment.

He pulled back his hand.

"Thank you, but I cannot accept this," he said again, unclasping the watch and dropping it back into the box.

Yao's smile slowly faded as he sat back in his chair. His robe slipped off one of his shoulders, exposing traces of their lovemaking on his light golden skin. But there was no trace of the flirtatious vixen from earlier in the morning. Somehow, in the way he carried himself without the slightest bit of humour, he had transformed into the proud, powerful nation who commanded the world's fastest growing economy, just as everyone else saw him.

Arthur found he could not quite meet his gaze.

"Keep it anyway," Yao said softly.

His only reply was a noncommittal noise as Arthur forked some eggs into his mouth to save from having to answer.

They were dressed and ready in the lobby of the hotel at a little past nine. Arthur fidgeted where he stood and kept adjusting his shirt collar, afraid that someone might see the bruises on his neck. Yao ignored him for the most part as he answered calls on his smartphone in his sharp language. He glanced repeatedly at his watch, and Arthur noticed with a strange flip of his stomach that it was a gold version of the one he had been given.

When all of the Chinese delegation have arrived and cabs to the airport were ordered, Yao finally turned his attention back to Arthur.

"Thank you for your hospitality. We are delighted with such a favourable reception from the United Kingdom."

"Not at all. We are all anxious to keep good relations with China."

Yao's lips twitched into that strange half-smile again. His eyes dropped a little as he said, "Of course."

There was a moment when Arthur felt he could have done something to salvage the visit. He fantasised passionately kissing Yao right then and there, or taking his hand and kissing the back of it to assure Yao of his most ardent love. In the end, however, they parted on a handshake that was all business.

"Take care," Arthur said a little lamely, before they whisked Yao away from him to the Rolls Royce patiently waiting outside.

* * *

Entry for Day 9 of the 30 Days Of Writing A Drabble A Day Challenge.


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